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by zungeonsandzaddies



Category: Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Asian Character(s), Character Study, Gen, Hurt, Loss of Parent(s), Major Original Character(s), Memory Alteration, Minor Character Death, a DIRECT response to the CRIME that is EPISODE 48, sad son city, yeah it's morgan :'(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28632927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zungeonsandzaddies/pseuds/zungeonsandzaddies
Summary: ***SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 48***Throughout Nick Chou’s life, he had weird little moments of reality shifts. They were similar to déjà vu in that everything seemed to be warped in a way where he knew something weird and familiar was happening, but these moments were different. They were moments of intense clarity. As if suddenly everything in his mind and body was clicking into place, and he was so close to understanding exactly who he was and why he was here, so, so close, but then the moment would end, disappear completely as if it had never even happened, and Nick would be left feeling like something had been lost.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





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**Author's Note:**

> so episode 48 ripped ur heart out, too, huh?
> 
> enjoy this brief dive into the life that nick now remembers
> 
> wrote this after ep 48 came out and I literally couldn't think about anything else for days after I listened to it
> 
> gonna say this should be read with the understanding that we don't yet have ep 49 bc I'm sure things will change when that comes out
> 
> but for now
> 
> enjoy some bittersweet nick

Nick was potty trained, barely, and that was the last milestone he had to pass before starting preschool at the nearby church. So on this fine, sunny September morning in California, little Nick was gearing up for his first day of preschool. His mama packed a lunch with little bite-sized squares of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, along with blueberries and what Nick only knew as “Mama’s favorite cereal.” His daddy slung his brand new oversized backpack over his tiny shoulders. 

“Remember when we met Ms. Kelly last week, Nicky?” His mother cooed, crouching down to Nick’s level.

Nick nodded.

“Well, you’re going to see her again today. You’re going to spend the day with her and seven other brand new friends! Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Nick nodded again. He thought it sounded fun. He tentatively liked Ms. Kelly. She was a little bit overwhelming, but his parents seemed to like her, so Nick would trust her for now. 

“Daddy’s gonna drive you to school, okay? Now give Mama a kiss!” 

Nick gave his mama a nice big smooch on the cheek and caught her in a tight hug around the neck before she could stand up. He felt tears welling up in his eyes at the idea of leaving her, but before he could start crying, his daddy scooped him up and spun him around, making Nick burst out into a fit of laughter. His daddy always knew how to make him laugh. 

Nick wrapped his arms around his daddy’s neck, too, and for a moment, he smelled something he’d never smelled before. It was similar to the skunk smell in his favorite scratch-and-sniff book, but not quite right. It wasn’t a smell that Nick had ever smelled before, especially on his daddy, but it felt familiar in a way he couldn’t place. It felt like home. Before Nick could get another whiff of the skunky smell, though, his daddy was lifting him up and placing him back down on the ground. Nick looked up into his daddy’s dark, kind, happy eyes, and the smell vanished completely. He blinked a few times. 

Throughout Nick Chou’s life, he had weird little moments of reality shifts. They were similar to déjà vu in that everything seemed to be warped in a way where he knew something weird and familiar was happening, but these moments were different. They were moments of intense clarity. As if suddenly everything in his mind and body was clicking into place, and he was so close to understanding exactly who he was and why he was here, so, so close, but then the moment would end, disappear completely as if it had never even happened, and Nick would be left feeling like something had been lost. 

“Ready to go, buddy?” His daddy asked. 

Nick nodded. 

His parents kissed. “See you later, honey,” he heard his mama say to his daddy. 

“Good luck with the interview,” his daddy said, “I know you’ll blow them all away with that Morgan Freeman flair.”

Nick’s mama smiled brightly. That smile lit up every room, just like his daddy always said it did. It never failed to make Nick smile, either. 

His daddy took his hand, he waved to his mama, and Nick was off to preschool.

-

The first semester of second grade was almost over, which Nick was grateful for. After his mama died in October, he kept getting weird looks from the other kids and especially weird looks from his teacher. Nick didn’t like being the center of attention like that, so he started collecting pebbles alone at recess and occupying his downtime in the classroom by playing with his little eraser animals. 

When he would come home at the end of the day, though, his daddy would give him weird looks, too, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. These days, his daddy looked more tired and more sad than he ever had before. 

Nick knew his mama’s congee would make his daddy feel better, but he didn’t know how they would get that since his mama wasn’t there to make it anymore. 

It was a cool day in November, and Nick stepped out of the neighbor’s car after being picked up from school. His daddy was waiting for him at the front door, and Nick ran up to give him a big hug. 

“Hey kiddo, how was school today?”

“We learned about vertebrates and invertebrates. Did you know invertebrates don’t have backbones? Rabbits and wolves and turtles are vertebrates, and jellyfish and snails are invertebrates.”

Nick’s daddy laughed his big daddy laugh. “Vertebrates and invertebrates, huh? Those are big words!”

Nick puffed out his chest. “I know,” he said, “I’m a big boy.”

Nick’s daddy just gave him a warm look, scooped him up, and spun him around. The spins were a bit slower these days, and Nick’s daddy blamed his slowness on Nick getting “too big,” but the spins still made Nick giggle anyway. 

His daddy settled him back down onto his own two feet, and Nick got to work putting his lunch containers in the kitchen sink and getting that day’s homework out—just like his daddy had taught him to do after school every day. But instead of going to make Nick an after school snack, his daddy sat next to him at the dining table. 

“Nick, I got an email from your teacher today,” he said, and Nick could tell from his tone that it wasn’t a good email.

“What? Why?”

“I think you know why, buddy.”

“Kasey stole my octopus eraser first!”

“I know, but that’s no reason to steal her crayons and get her in trouble for losing them.”

Nick sunk down in his chair and crossed his arms, pouting. He didn’t like getting caught red-handed, or being told on by his teacher.

His daddy sighed. “You’re not in trouble, buddy.”

Nick looked up in surprise. “I’m not?”

“No,” his daddy continued, “I’ve been doing some things I’m not proud of, too, since Mama...” He trailed off. Nick looked away. It made him uncomfortable when his daddy trailed off like that when he talked about Nick’s mama. 

“Sorry. Since Mama passed.” 

When Nick looked back at his daddy, surprised to finally hear him say what had happened, he got a sudden, tight feeling in his chest. His daddy had put his face in his hands, and his jet-black hair was falling in front of his face. He hadn’t been taking as good care of himself since Nick’s mama died. His hair had grown longer and he had a faint 5-o’clock shadow on his face. For a moment, his daddy’s poor posture and unkempt hair and stubble almost reminded Nick of someone he knew, someone he knew so well, someone he’d always known, and Nick was close to remembering his name or his exact face or maybe where he knew him from—

But then his daddy sat up straight and brushed his hair behind his ears, and the moment of recognition was gone as quickly as it had come. He was just Nick’s daddy again. The same old daddy he’d always had. 

“Hey, you okay, buddy?”

His daddy’s voice jerked Nick out of his confused state, and he nodded on instinct. 

“Well,” his daddy continued, “I just wanted you to know… Mama’s death affects me, too. It makes me do weird things and feel sad, angry, bad. And that’s okay. But we don’t want to feel sad, angry, and bad, forever, do we?”

Nick shook his head. 

“So I was thinking we could tell each other when we’re feeling that way. And we should talk about those feelings, whether they came out of nowhere or came up because we were thinking of Mama. Does that sound like something we can do, Nick?”

Nick nodded. His daddy stayed quiet, though, so Nick cleared his throat. 

“Yeah. I can do that.”

His daddy smiled. He still looked a little sad, but Nick knew that smile—it meant…

“I love you, Nick,” his daddy said, tugging Nick out of his chair and into a big hug. 

Nick closed his eyes, breathing in his daddy’s scent. Sometimes he found himself wondering if he would get that skunky smell again, like he had the first day of preschool so long ago. But it was just his daddy. 

“I love you, too, Daddy.”

-

At long last: Christmas break. Nick’s favorite time of the year. 

Nick loved Christmas. All ten-year-old kids loved Christmas, of course, but Nick loved it on another level. Something about the presents and the families and the music always made December feel absolutely magical, and Nick looked forward to it every year the moment the first of November rolled around. 

He would never disrespect Halloween, which was super fun, but to heck with Thanksgiving. 

He loved the way Christmas infected every single place he went. It was at school, it was in restaurants, it was in stores big and small. And the closer it got to being Christmas, the happier everyone seemed to become. 

Nick’s dad never seemed to understand where Nick’s love for Christmas came from, but he indulged Nick every year nonetheless. They made tons of traditions around the holiday season to do together, as father and son.

Nick wouldn’t admit it, but although he claimed his favorite thing about Christmas was the presents, his real favorite thing was getting to spend so much time with his dad. 

The first day of Christmas break every year, Nick and his dad went shopping for gifts. Even if it was a week day, Nick’s dad would take off work to spend the day with his son. Nick’s dad always asked for his kid’s wish list halfway through November at the latest, but they would get presents for Nick’s friends, his dad’s friends, and his grandparents together. His dad was always a little bit stressed about doing all the shopping so last minute, but Nick insisted that they go together once school was out and he could focus completely on gift-acquiring… so his dad had to be satisfied with buying all of Nick’s presents ahead of time, and then waiting on the rest. 

This year, the semester seemed to run a bit later than usual, and Nick’s dad decided they should go to the mall so they could hit a ton of stores in one go. Nick wasn’t complaining—the mall’s department stores were some of the most festive places of all during the month of December.

They’d blown through four different stores by noon, and each of the Chou boys had at least two bags on each arm. Nick’s stomach rumbled, and his dad insisted that they stop for lunch. Lunch was boring when you had Christmas shopping to do, but Nick relented. He was famished. 

As they approached the bustling food court, Nick heard the sweet sound of live Christmas music coming from the lower level. Oh, it was always so exciting when there were live musicians other than pianists playing. Nick loved the piano, of course, as his dad had insisted he learn the classical instrument from a young age, but the mall always had live pianists. Today was special. 

Nick darted toward the balcony of the second floor as fast as he could without running—his dad always said not to run indoors—and leaned over the glass barrier to look down at the musicians.

When he looked down, though, a wave of dizziness caught him off guard, and then he snapped into a hyper-focused state. The cover of Auld Lang Syne enveloped him completely, shutting all other noise out. It was definitely Auld Lang Syne, but this trio was playing the song far more punk-rock than Nick had ever heard it, and yet… it worked. It worked so well, in fact, that it was starting to make Nick emotional. Before Nick knew what was happening, big fat tears were dropping from his chin down to the first level of the mall where the Christmas cover band was playing. 

Nick sniffled, trying to stop crying, but he couldn’t. His chest felt tight. His head throbbed with the beat of the music. Nick didn’t think he’d ever heard a better take on a Christmas song—heck, he didn’t think he’d ever heard a better take on a song, period. 

Nick’s dad caught up with him and gazed down at the cover band as well. He made a face, clearly not approving of the style they had chosen to play such a beautiful song in. 

“That’s certainly… something,” he commented, “Why don’t we go get something to eat? Nick?”

Nick’s dad put a hand on his son’s shoulder, but Nick immediately shrugged him off. He didn’t want this moment to end. He wanted the song to go on forever, to carry him away into the heavens with it, to play in his heart for all eternity. 

“Hey, now, don’t push your dad away like that, Nick. Nick. Nicky, are you okay?”

His dad’s voice sounded distant, it was trying to pull him out of this, away from the music, and Nick didn’t want to go back, he didn’t want to leave. He was so close to placing it, so close to connecting it to a memory.

But then the song ended. And Nick’s dad took him by the shoulders and turned him to face him. 

“Nick. Are you crying? You liked that song that much, huh?”

Nick shivered. He felt cold all of a sudden. Empty. The band seemed to have gone on break, or finished playing completely, and the resulting drone of normal shopping mall noise brought on a sadness that Nick hadn’t felt in a long time. 

The tears had stopped, though. He still didn’t know why he had cried; that song had never meant anything in particular to him before. 

Disoriented, Nick wiped at his eyes and nose, unable to meet his dad’s eyes out of embarrassment. 

“Come on, buddy, let’s get you something to blow your nose with.”

Nick’s dad led him gently toward the bathroom, and Nick tried to get one last look at the lower level to see what the band’s name was, but the holiday crowd of shoppers had engulfed all traces of any memorabilia. 

That night, Nick went home and searched for different versions of Auld Lang Syne on Spotify, YouTube, you name it… but nowhere could he find the rock cover that he’d heard at the mall. The band must not be very well-known after all. 

Still, from that moment forward, Auld Lang Syne became Nick’s favorite Christmas song. On nights when he felt lonely, or missed his mama a little extra, he would play that song to help him get to sleep.

-

Soccer season was starting back up now that Christmas break was over, and Nick was ready for it. 

He’d spent all of January practicing with his dad, and now it was time to show off his new skills to his teammates. Nick ran onto the field, yelling “Happy New Year!” to his friends. He always looked forward to playing soccer again. He was decent at it, thanks to all the time and effort his dad spent practicing with him, but he was more into the whole having-fun-with-your-friends part of soccer rather than the sport itself. He’d have to tell his dad that he didn’t want to get super competitive with soccer eventually, but as a kid in his first year of middle school, he had time to figure out how to bring that up.

“Chou! Those are sweet new cleats,” his friend Grant said, giving Nick a quick hug in greeting. 

“Thanks,” Nick responded, “Dad got them for me for Christmas.”

“Man,” Terry Jr. whistled, coming up to give Nick a slap on the back, “You always get the coolest Christmas gifts.”

Nick laughed, embarrassed. He didn’t think that his stuff was “cool,” per se, but he appreciated the compliment. “Well, my dad’s a cool guy.”

Terry Jr. gave Nick’s shoulder a squeeze. “Nick… Your dad’s great, don’t get me wrong, but he’s hardly a ‘cool guy.’”

Nick looked over to where his dad was waving from the sidelines, his tray of freshly-cut oranges in hand. He pointed to his “Doodler Dad” T-shirt and gave Nick a big thumbs-up.

Nick looked back sheepishly at Terry Jr. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Still, Nick loved him anyway.

Terry Jr. was about to respond when two small bodies whizzed past him and latched onto Nick, taking him down with them. 

“Nicolas!”

“Nicolas!”

“We have not seen you in many days!”

“Or nights!”

“You have new cleats?”

“We still shall run faster than you!”

“And more fiercely!”

Nick laughed and ruffled the mops of hair on Lark and Sparrow’s heads. “I dunno, my dad’s been training me pretty hard… I might have you beat now.”

Lark and Sparrow shared a look, and with fire in their eyes, darted back toward their mother, screaming that she needed to train them more ferociously. 

“Nice tactic,” Grant commented. 

“Yeah,” Nick responded, getting up and brushing himself off, “I figured that was the only way to get them off me.”

Soccer practice went well. Nick had indeed become faster, though the twins still sped past him with ease. But he could hear his dad cheering him on every time he got the ball, and that made him feel good. 

During a break, Nick jogged over to his dad, who handed him his water bottle after insisting Nick first give him a high five. 

“Oh, hell yeah, man!”

This time, Nick knew what was happening when it started. He felt the familiar lurch in his stomach and the tightening in his chest.

This time, he heard a voice. Almost like a memory replaying in his head. It was his dad’s voice, saying “Hell yeah, Nick.” “Yeah, man, I dig it.” but it was warped. It sounded different, deeply familiar and completely alien at the same time. The high five rang in his ears. 

There was something about all of it. The high five. The tone of voice. The swear word. And he knew distinctly that his dad had never referred to him as “man” before, but it felt right. He was so close to figuring out how all these elements fit together, if he could just—

The weird spell didn’t last nearly as long as it had at the mall over a year ago. It ended abruptly as Nick’s dad clapped a hand on his arm.

Nick looked up at his dad. His eyes were a bit glassy, and he blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. Though the moment was short-lived, he was still left with that empty feeling.

“Ah, sorry for the swear there, kiddo,” his dad apologized, running a hand through his own hair. “I just got excited because you’ve been playing so well!” 

Nick shrugged his shoulders, shaking the hollow feeling off, and plastered a smile over his face. “Thanks, Dad.” 

He chugged his water, then ran back onto the field. Before he could get into position for the next drill, though, Terry Jr. stopped him. 

“Hey, Nick,” Terry Jr. said with a hand on his shoulder, “You okay, dude? You look a bit pale.” 

Nick tried to laugh it off. “Ah, you know me, my face gets pale when my adrenaline starts pumping. Kinda the opposite of Grant, am I right?” 

Terry Jr. still looked concerned—nobody, not even Nick, could get a lie past that boy—but he played along, shoved Nick lightly for making fun of Grant, and followed him back to the group. 

-

Nick felt like he’d aged ten years, though it had only been a couple… days? Weeks? He wasn’t sure how long it’d been since he and his friends and their dads were transported into this new realm. 

Nick hadn’t spent more than a week away from his dad in his whole life, and that was just for brief sleepaway camps during the summers. When the dads finally found him at the edge of Waterdeep, Nick’s knees almost gave out altogether. He loved his dad, but even so, he’d never been so happy to see him in his life. The Redbrands were very scary, bold, and direct, and Nick missed the soft, understanding comfort of his dad more than he thought he ever would. 

And Nick’s dad only further proved his worth as a father and a person throughout their fantastical journey.

When they retrieved the Battle Axe of Hatred and Lark and Sparrow’s dad turned into a bear, a sight that shattered Nick’s understanding of reality wholly and completely, Nick was grateful for the grounding force of his dad.

When the other dads hit the ball out of the park in the battle of the bands and Nick and his dad had to hide out in the trunk of the Honda Odyssey so they wouldn’t get killed, Nick was grateful his dad was there to make him feel safe.

When Nick was taken by the scary people in the purple cloaks, he was grateful at least that Lark and Sparrow were there to keep him company, and later, Grant and Terry Jr., too. But, God, he wished his dad was there. 

Luckily, his dad found him. 

And now, here they were. Together again. At last. 

They may have to face more challenges. More monsters. More terrifying grandfathers. They still needed to find all the dads’ anchors and find a way out of this hellscape of a world. 

But Nick had hope. If he knew his dad, which he did, he knew they’d get home. Because his dad was the bravest, most determined, kindest, and somehow, yes, the funniest man he’d ever known, and Nick was so proud to be his son. 

Sometime after the dads found Mr. Oak’s anchor, the other dads seemed set on breaking someone out of jail. They insisted that they save this mystery person, said it was extremely important, even though Nick’s dad didn’t seem to know what they were talking about. 

Nick felt annoyed by the detour. He just wanted to go home. He didn’t belong in this world, this world full of hard-asses and tough guys. He belonged at home, in his bed after a hot shower—God, he hadn’t showered in far too long—with a nice book. He belonged on the soccer field with his friends, where the number one rule was to have fun, not to stay alive. 

He knew Lark and Sparrow could make it in this world. Maybe Grant, now, too, since he’d killed that monster. And Terry Jr. had really stepped up as a leader of the kids, so maybe he could make it here, too. And Lord knows Paeden, even though he was the smallest of them all, was making it in this world better than any of the rest of them could ever hope to. 

But Nick wasn’t cut out for it. His dad had taught him to be a responsible young man, to do well in school, to do nice things for other people. Now, he had to learn how to protect himself and his friends from literal death—and the feeling of a protective knife in his hand only ever succeeded in making Nick feel more terrified.

So, when they had to break this man out of the supermax prison in Meth Bay, Nick resented it. 

But his dad said they were sticking with the group, so he went.

After the battle is over—which, apparently, was pointless, as the prisoner’s own dad had broken him out already—Nick’s dad stands by his side as the rest of the dads and their new pal converse. Nick watches as Mr. Stampler motions for Terry Jr. to join their dad huddle. Nick is curious about the new guy, and hasn’t gotten a good look at him yet, but he waits patiently by his dad’s side until the dads introduce their friend. 

After a few moments, the dads break apart, and Terry Jr. approaches Nick. 

“Hey Nick,” Terry Jr. starts, then he sighs a heavy sigh. “Look, this is gonna sound crazy. But apparently some shit went down when our dads were trying to find an anchor in Meth Bay, and… well, that’s not your real dad.”

Nick furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean, this isn’t my real dad? Of course he’s my real dad. I grew up with him. He’s been my dad my whole life.”

“I dunno, dude,” Terry Jr. continues, “I’m just telling you what my dad told me. This guy—Glenn is his name—apparently he’s your biological father, and he actually raised you, but he chose to go to prison and give you a new life rather than dying and leaving you without any parents. Your, like, whole life has been restructured with your dad, I mean, the dad you have now, but… Christ, Glenn can probably explain what happened better. Do you want to meet him?”

Nick is painfully aware of his dad’s hand on his shoulder tightening protectively, but his dad stays quiet. This is Nick’s decision.

Nick nods.

Terry Jr. turns back toward the group of dads and gives them a nod. He steps aside, as do all the dads, to reveal a man with long, rocker hair, a leather jacket, and far-too-ripped skinny jeans. 

Nick remembers all the times in his life when he’s gotten that feeling: the dizziness, the tightening in his chest, the gut-wrenching, heartbreakingly powerful wave of emotion. He’s always suspected it has to do with his dad because it only ever seems to happen when his dad is around, but he’s never known what it means. This explains it. If his memory has been rewired to remember a different father, then maybe there are mistakes, blips in the spell or the system or whatever that make him remember certain things, certain things about this man, about Glenn, his “real” dad, but nothing ever clicks because Nick is supposed to forget him. 

That would make sense. 

But when Nick looks at Glenn, his chest doesn’t tighten. He doesn’t smell skunks—or rather, marijuana, which he has since learned the smell of, much to his displeasure. He doesn’t feel a sense of recognition around the long black hair or the stubble or the bad posture. He doesn’t burst into tears or hear pounding Christmas music in his head. He doesn’t feel a memory bubbling up, begging to be exposed, of a high five or a “Hey, man.” He just feels the aftermath of the feeling he usually gets. Empty. Lost. This would have explained everything, if he had remembered Glenn, if he had gotten a familiar feeling about him or recognized even a small part of his face. His strange experiences throughout his childhood would all make sense. 

But Nick just remembers his dad who is standing next to him now. His dad spinning him around and making him laugh. His dad practicing soccer with him. His dad taking him Christmas gift shopping at the height of the holiday season without a complaint. His dad helping him work through his emotions rather than drowning them out or acting purely on instinct. His dad kissing his mama before taking him to school every morning until October of second grade. 

Nick’s been standing there in silence for far too long. He knows this. He doesn’t know Glenn’s face, but if he has to guess, he’s pretty sure Glenn looks worried, desperate, and f-ing terrified. Nick feels the warmth of his dad’s hand on his shoulder.

Terry Jr. is the first to speak. “Nick,” he says in his gentle way, “Do you feel anything? A father-son bond, or something like that?”

The emptiness in Nick’s heart expands, but he knows that’s not the feeling they’re all looking for. His shoulders sag. His feet feel heavy. He just wants to go home.

“No. Not even close.”

**Author's Note:**

> gamers im so sorry


End file.
